


Music To My Eyes

by acciomerlin



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff, M/M, Musical Merlin, Pining Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23877904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciomerlin/pseuds/acciomerlin
Summary: Arthur discovers that Merlin is musically inclined and promptly loses his mind over it.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 660





	Music To My Eyes

Arthur enjoyed music. It was one of the few joys of life he could experience without actually doing anything himself. He could just sit and listen. That’s all there was to it. He liked the melodies, the lyrics, the compositions, the instruments…everything.

Music had also been a part of his cultural upbringing as a member of royalty. He could still clearly remember the fair number of lessons he and Morgana had to sit through, listening to their tutor drone on about musical theories and histories and mechanisms of instruments. He knew the intricacies of it, the ins and outs, had enough knowledge to hold an intelligent conversation with other nobles if the topic ever arose.

However, he didn’t have the privilege to actually learn it; for the simple fact that he had been thrown out on the training grounds with knights thrice his size ever since he could hold a wooden stick.

It had just never been an option.

* * *

The last person Arthur ever expected to have a musical bone in his body was Merlin. Clumsy, uncoordinated, infuriatingly cheeky Merlin. It seemed completely out of the realm of possibility.

The realisation that he did thoroughly shocked Arthur to his core.

He first stumbled upon it purely by chance, on accident. Sir Leon had informed him that the new crossbow Arthur had ordered to be made was ready and waiting for him in the armoury. Hardly masking his excitement, Arthur set off to get it at once.

As he neared the room, he was forced to slow down when he heard a sound coming from inside it. Arthur was surprised. He hadn’t really expected anyone to be there at that time. The drills for the day were done, and the knights had the following day off.

Curiously, he peeked in and was greeted with the sight of Merlin sharpening Arthur’s sword with deft hands, humming distractedly while doing so.

Arthur looked around to see if anyone else was in there. No. No, it was unmistakably Merlin, and he was surprisingly in tune.

He sounded different from when he spoke, his voice considerably higher compared to the deeper quality it possessed when he talked. There was also a lilting tone in his singing that sounded so pretty that it immediately tugged at Arthur’s heart.

Startled at the sudden rush of feelings, he scolded his traitorous body and proceeded to ignore any physiological reactions that leaped up at him unexpectedly. Arthur also belatedly realised that he was standing at the entrance of the armoury to perversely stare at his unknowing manservant, and how horribly inappropriate it all was.

Flushing slightly, Arthur decided that playing with his new weapon could surely wait a few more hours and he should probably do something productive anyway. He was the Crown Prince and he was a very important person with very important duties, if he did say so himself.

Rest assured, Arthur definitely didn’t think about what he had seen in the armoury for the rest of the day. He absolutely didn’t.

* * *

The next time it happened, their hunting party was in the forest sitting around the fire and roasting their kill, engaging in comfortable conversation. Arthur often noted how freer and open his knights were when they were away from the foreboding walls of Camelot. He was glad he could occasionally offer them this respite. Arthur fiercely loved his city but even he could admit that it could get suffocating there sometimes, the burden of duties and class weighing down heavily upon them all.

The sky darkened, the fire crackled and it wasn’t long before Gwaine burst out into song, his singing painfully off-key and the lyrics impossibly butchered. The others guffawed and soon joined him, not doing a much better job either.

However, one voice rang out differently to Arthur. It sounded good, gave subtle direction to the awful choir of the knights and it belonged to Merlin. Arthur didn’t know if he’d somehow moved closer to the fire but he felt warmer inside.

* * *

It had been many years since the word “feast” had provoked any joy in Arthur. Now it was just one of his duties, entailing hours of average entertainment, too much greasy food and tedious company. Arthur usually snatched the first opportunity to bail from feasts, much to his father’s ardent disapproval.

He was seated at another one now, in honour of welcoming King Rickard to Camelot and the hoard of performers was only a touch better than usual.

Arthur's circlet sat so heavily that he predicted a headache in the near future, and it had hardly been any time since the celebrations had started. He groaned inwardly, barely resisting the urge to repeatedly bang his head against the table.

After a short while, a melodious crooning belonging to an apparently famed singer filled the large hall as her companion merrily played the lute by her side.

It was nice to listen to and ordinarily, he would’ve enjoyed it but Arthur found himself growing extremely impatient that evening, his mind utterly distracted.

Engaging in an embarrassingly frequent habit, Arthur felt his eyes seeking out Merlin. He could feel his presence somewhere behind him and it was like an itch to get a proper look at him.

Merlin wasn’t paying attention to him. His focus was centered on the pair of musicians before them, and he was rhythmically drumming his fingers against the jug of wine he was holding. He looked entirely captivated by the duo.

A flare of jealousy shot through Arthur, and he felt disgruntled for a moment that Merlin was so enraptured by someone other than Arthur. He knew that it was unfair, because he was the one who enjoyed Merlin’s undivided attention most of the time but that didn’t stop him from craving it.

Merlin’s eyebrows were drawn in concentration and he was biting into his lower lip, as if trying to place the song. Maybe Arthur’s gaze lingered a little on Merlin’s mouth but who was to say? He’d vehemently deny it, if ever asked.

_Why couldn’t he stop staring at Merlin?_

“Enjoying the entertainment, Arthur?” came a saccharine-sweet voice from beside him.

Arthur’s neck snapped back to the front.

Morgana was smirking at him, wearing that annoying, knowing look of hers.

Arthur cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he answered, feeling his face heat up at being caught.

“How rude, Arthur. Lady Cassandra has been serenading you for the past half hour and you won’t even spare her a polite glance,” Morgana tsked. “Something better caught your eye? Or should I say _someone_?”

Arthur glared at her. “Don’t you ever stop talking, Morgana?”

Morgana grinned like a cat that got the cream and said, “Touched a nerve, did I?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” answered Arthur irritably. “Now shut up before I –”

“Before you what? What will you do, Arthur?” challenged Morgana like the she-devil she was, personally sent to wreck Arthur’s life.

Arthur smiled coolly. “You do know I’m not above asking Sir Hilderic to escort you around the castle tomorrow? I hear he is positively smitten with you.”

Morgana gasped, her grin slipping. “You wouldn’t!”

Arthur just shrugged.

“Not that slimy git!” exclaimed Morgana, aghast.

“That slimy git, alright. So you’d better stop testing me –”

“Arthur! Morgana!” hissed Uther from Arthur’s other side. “Stop your squabbling this instant!”

They quickly averted their eyes and collected themselves, but not before pinching the other on the arm or flicking an ear.

Attracted by the commotion, Merlin stepped forward from the shadows.

“Everything okay?” he asked lowly, his breath hot against Arthur’s ear.

It was all Arthur could do to not jump from his seat or have a seizure of the heart.

He swallowed thickly and drained his goblet, turning his head tentatively to meet Merlin’s eyes.

“Yes. All fine.”

* * *

To Arthur’s great disappointment, Merlin slipped away from his side after the feast and celebrations ceased.

Arthur was tipsy from wine and he was slightly swaying on his feet and he needed Merlin _now._

Thankfully, Morgana had fled to her chambers after seeing Sir Hilderic advancing towards her and therefore couldn’t make a mockery of Arthur’s somewhat pathetic state as he frantically scoured the place for his manservant.

He finally spotted Merlin on the far side of the hall, where the entertainers of the evening were milling about or packing up or just taking a breather.

Merlin was animatedly conversing with the lute-player from before, and Arthur could almost see the brightness of his eyes, brimming with excitement and interest.

The musician handed his instrument to Merlin and Merlin handled it like a precious jewel, a wistful expression darkening his face. It passed quickly, as Merlin held it in the proper position and played a few notes, smiling delightedly. Arthur involuntarily felt his lips quirk up too, an unidentified emotion burrowing itself deep in his chest at the sight of Merlin’s happiness.

Moreover, Merlin seemed to know what he was doing as he strummed effortlessly.

A dumbfounded Arthur watched from a distance. The way the instrument looked in Merlin’s arms, his slender fingers plucking at the strings and the confidence he exuded…it all made Arthur’s mouth run dry and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

As if sensing his gaze, Merlin suddenly looked up straight at Arthur and Arthur swiftly turned away in panic, his face burning up at being caught for the second time that night.

Arthur didn’t know what Merlin saw on his face but he was at Arthur’s side the very next moment, rolling his eyes and allowing Arthur to dazedly lean on him as they made their way to his chambers.

“You’re absolutely useless after a couple of drinks, aren’t you?” Merlin teased fondly. “I’ll have to ask the kitchen to water down the wine even more for their lightweight princeling next time.”

“Look who’s talking,” retorted Arthur half-heartedly, hyper aware of Merlin’s hand gripping his waist.

 _To prevent you from losing your balance and falling on your drunk arse, you idiot_ , a voice inside his head sneered. He hated that voice with a passion.

Soon, Arthur was in his bed and Merlin was gone and Arthur went straight to sleep.

He definitely didn’t think about Merlin playing the lute that night and how he looked doing it. _He really, really didn’t._

* * *

Arthur slowed down as the Court Physician’s visiting chambers appeared around the corner. He had been putting this off for some time now, quietly suffering through the pain. However, after Morgana nearly bit his head off in the morning, he had no choice but to pay Gaius a visit.

Arthur raised his hand to knock but stopped short when he saw that the door was half-open and Merlin was sitting on the bench inside. Arthur peeked around and Gaius was nowhere in sight.

Merlin was scribbling away on a parchment, completely engrossed. The sunlight hitting the glass phials of various potions surrounding him cast a colourful glow on his face, the column of his neck pronounced by shades of tinted greens and reds.

There was a small smile gracing his features and Arthur’s eyes narrowed. What could he be writing that was making him so happy?

Arthur’s brain quickly supplied him with an explanation and it wasn’t a pleasant one.

Admittedly, Merlin had a drab, scholar side to him but he had never looked anything short of mildly irritated when writing Arthur’s speeches or appropriately interested when learning about herbs and poultices from Gaius.

No, this glow could only be caused by something _personal_ to him.

Perhaps a love letter? It wasn’t totally unlikely.

Arthur’s mind rebelled angrily at the mere thought. He needed to see it, needed to see the person it was addressed to so he could systematically throttle them.

He coughed loudly.

Merlin’s head shot up, startled.

“Arthur!” he exclaimed, blushing a deep red and hastily shoving the parchment in his satchel, trying his best to appear nonchalant. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for Gaius,” Arthur answered, walking inside. “I’ve run out of ointment for my shoulder injury and it’s giving me a spot of trouble lately.”

“Oh, I can prepare that for you,” Merlin said, getting up. “Do you have the bottle so I can see what kind it was?”

Arthur, for the matter, did have the bottle. Merlin didn’t need to know that.

“Oh no, I don’t,” he lied with a regretful tone. “I must’ve forgotten.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and sighed. “For heaven’s sake Arthur, you had one job.”

“Could you get it for me, Merlin?” Arthur requested, grimacing and clutching at his shoulder dramatically. “I really am in so much pain.”

Merlin didn’t look convinced but didn’t push further. “ _Fine_ , I’ll get it,” he muttered darkly. “Because your royal arse only needs more pampering.”

With that, Merlin was gone and Arthur dove for his satchel.

His conscience gnawed at him as a wave of guilt washed over him. Arthur knew this was dishonourable, that he was breaching Merlin’s privacy and he was ashamed of his actions but Merlin’s contented smile was haunting him and he just _had_ to know the reason.

He briefly glanced at the entrance to make sure Merlin really was gone, or that he hadn’t returned.

Arthur successfully found the incriminating piece of parchment and unfolding it, his eyes feverishly darted over the neat words to make meaning of them.

All the nervous energy drained out of him and he exhaled. It wasn’t a love letter, it was…poetry? No, not poetry –there was a repetition of certain words and sections and the structure was like that of a song.

_They were lyrics._

_Merlin wrote lyrics?_

Embarrassed at his premature assumptions being proven wrong, he carefully kept the sheet back in the satchel, not wanting to read too much. What Merlin did in his time off was not Arthur’s business.

He saw a smudged fingerprint in ink on the surface of the worktable and his lips pulled into a small smile as he traced it. There was a strange feeling of endearment for Merlin that was rapidly enveloping him and he didn’t know how to get rid of it. It was most astounding.

Soon, the object of his thoughts came back looking thoroughly exasperated and heatedly announced that he had not found the bottle of ointment and wondered aloud why Arthur couldn’t accomplish the simple job of keeping things in their proper places.

Arthur sheepishly revealed the bottle from under his jacket and Merlin became even angrier, if possible. He ended up getting an earful from his manservant and for once, Arthur let him rant without any retaliation from his end.

He was so busy fighting back a smile at the sight of Merlin’s furious red face that he could hardly do anything else.

* * *

Merlin had not been pleased to learn that Arthur was going to go without him for the state visit to Mercia.  
He had tried to argue but even Merlin had to admit that Gaius needed all the help he could get to deal with the sickness spreading through Lower Town.

So he had begrudgingly let Arthur go, imploring him to “please not be an oblivious idiot” and to “watch his back” and informing him that “who knows, maybe I’ll end up missing Your Prattish Highness after all”. Arthur didn’t know whether to be touched by his concern or offended by his insolence, but this was not a new dilemma when it came to Merlin.

The visit to Mercia had been uneventful and therefore, successful. On his last day, King Bayard ordered for the Crown Prince of Camelot to be shown around the bustling markets of the capital city and Arthur was curious. These markets were widely famed for their variety and quality of goods, boasting imports from faraway lands. His pouch of gold was feeling rather heavy anyway.

Ten minutes into the market, and Arthur saw something that sharply brought a vivid memory to the front of his mind. He just couldn’t resist purchasing it on the spot.

The journey back to Camelot seemed even longer than usual.

* * *

“Arthur, what is this?”

Arthur looked up from his reports to find Merlin standing at the door, looking puzzled and holding a beautifully crafted lute in one hand.

Arthur considered him. “Hmm, I believe that’s a lute, Merlin.”

Merlin huffed in annoyance and stepped inside, letting the door slam close behind him.

“That’s not what I meant,” he retorted. “What was this lute doing in my room?”

“Staying still, I hope,” Arthur answered cheekily. “Otherwise we’d have to check it for traces of sorcery.”

Merlin ignored his comment and eyed him with suspicion. “You got this from Mercia, didn’t you? And then you sent it to my chambers. Why? I don’t get it. Do you want me to deliver it to someone?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and got up. “It’s a gift Merlin, for you. Will you relax? I noticed that you can play it the other day and then I saw this in the market at Mercia –”

“So you thought you’d buy it for me? Just like that?” Merlin interrupted, his eyes wide with astonishment.

Arthur flushed deeply at his words. Well, when Merlin put it like that, it sounded awfully maudlin and romantic. Decidedly non-platonic. Arthur really hadn’t thought this through.

“ _Yes_ ,” he answered defensively anyway, crossing his arms. “I’m not as terrible as you think.”

“I don’t think you’re terrible at all,” Merlin blurted out, then coughed. “I mean, I’m just surprised, is all.”

They stared at each other and the air was so tense that Arthur felt like he was going to suffocate.

Merlin shuffled awkwardly, inching closer to him. “So, er –” he began, his high cheekbones tinged pink. “It’s mine to keep?”

“Yes,” Arthur confirmed softly.

Merlin then looked at him and beamed so radiantly that all breath was knocked out of Arthur’s lungs. He felt he could happily die in that moment.

“Thank you, _Arthur,_ ” he said earnestly, his eyes crinkling with a wide smile. “Really.”

Arthur slapped him on the shoulder, hoping to diffuse the tension but it just made him want to touch Merlin more.

_Oh, bugger._

“So, where’d you learn to play?” he asked, before he could act on his ridiculous and surprisingly strong urge.

“Oh, my mother taught me,” Merlin told him wistfully. “Turns out I’m a natural. I have a lute back home too. It belonged to my father.”

“That’s nice,” Arthur said nodding. “I suppose you had to show competence in some area of life. Maybe we’ll officially promote you to the position of a bard.”

Merlin barked out a laugh. “As if you’d last a day without me at your constant beck and call.”

Arthur scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself, _Mer_ lin, please.”

He shifted to move away but Merlin suddenly grasped Arthur’s hand. His calloused fingertips were lightly pressing into his palm, commanding enough to keep Arthur in place. Arthur's heart wasted no time in climbing up his throat.

_He was so close._

“Do you know how to play?” Merlin asked in a low voice, looking at Arthur through his lashes.

Arthur swallowed. “No,” he breathed. “I could tell you its history though.”

Merlin’s cheeks dimpled and Arthur felt himself going weak at the sight. Merlin was still holding his hand, thumb brushing over Arthur’s knuckles in a soothing rhythm.

“Maybe I could teach you, if you like,” Merlin whispered, his voice curling in a way that made Arthur’s stomach clench.

Merlin’s ocean blue eyes were looking straight into Arthur’s, a silent question lurking in their depths that had nothing to do with the teaching of musical instruments.

Arthur was so dizzy with want that he just couldn’t ignore his heart’s desperate fluttering.

 _Not this time_.

So he didn’t.

* * *

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> This one is dedicated to Mel (ilysm) :') 
> 
> If it's the 28th of April where you are, then it's my birthday today heheh  
> Anyway, I hope you liked it, thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://acciomeriin.com/)!
> 
> Till next time!


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